


smoke & mirrors game

by spock



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Canon Typical Spike Lee Cheesiness, Early Era Pride, M/M, Making Out, Period Typical Attitudes, Pre-Relationship, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 07:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16424822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/pseuds/spock
Summary: When push comes to shove, Ron's the more responsible of the two. That isn't saying much.





	smoke & mirrors game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snickfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/gifts).



It’s been a bit of a slow week, everyone’s cases wrapped up or on hold. Ron’s been making faces at Flip all day, trying to get the guy to crack a smile. He’s too serious for his own good.

For the first couple of hours Flip focused on his paperwork and kept pretending like he didn’t see what Ron was doing, but there’s only so much busy work a man can do. Now he’s staring at Ron with the world's most stoic expression, one that’d give even Eastwood a run for his money. Ron can tell he’s close to crackin’, though.

“Listen up, men,” Bridges says, making his way into the bullpen. “The freaks are coming to Colorado Springs.”

Since he’d already been staring at Flip, Ron doesn’t miss the way he tenses up at the Chief’s words. Sarge comes out from his office with a resigned look on his face, which tells Ron that whatever the Chief’s about to lay on them is gonna be a big waste of time.

“Fagg—”

“Sir,” Ron says, cutting him off. “I think you mean gay people.”

Butter wouldn’t melt in that man’s mouth. “Gays and lesbians,” he says the words like they pain him, and an awkwardness descends over the room for having heard them, “have been filing for permits to hold in some sorta festival, and we need someone in the crowd to make sure they aren’t planning to kick off any shit. Sounds to me like Ron here is eager to volunteer. Who wants to play his boyfriend?”

The awkwardness turns into silence. Jimmy coughs. Mick rolls his chair a little closer to his desk.

Flip sits up a little bit taller. His voice is loud when it breaks the silence. “Fuck it,” he says. “I’ll do it.”

“Beautiful.” Bridges claps his hands. “The dynamic duo at it again. Talk to Trapp.”

 

* * *

 

“This is,” Ron starts, and then has to pause for a moment to mull it over, “really tame.”

Flip clearly isn’t in the mood to humor him. Their hands are knotted loosely and he’s got his shades on, scanning the crowd. To Ron’s eyes, the people standing on the other side of the street gawking seem to be a bigger threat than anyone at the rally.

“Like, a-waste-of-resources levels of tame. We’d be better off over there to make sure they don't kick off any shit.”

“What exactly were you expecting?” Flip asks. It’s the most he’s said since they arrived on the scene.

He shrugs. “They were rioting up in New York. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t New York City.”

Ron isn’t sure what to say to that. “Sorry,” is what he lands on eventually, even though he isn’t exactly sure why. He gets mad at himself, which is the only explanation he has for why the next thing out of his mouth is, “This isn’t the first time I’ve been in this kinda scene, you know.”

Flip opts not to pick up what Ron's laid down. A couple of people wander over to where they’re standing and Ron shuts up. He smiles at them, and they smile back timidly. Ron elbows Flip right under his ribs, knocking a “Howdy,” out of him, followed by, “ _Howdy_? What the fuck,” said low enough that only Ron should be able to hear.

When the group is far enough out of earshot that they won’t be able to hear him, Ron says, “I told you not to wear the flannel. It just makes you look like you’re trying too hard to be butch. When have you ever said _howdy_ in your life?”

A pair of Uniforms pass by them next, neither that Ron knows by sight. They stare more at Ron and Flip than any of the other couples parading around. For all that they’re surrounded by outcasts, they’re the only interracial couple that bothered to show up today, and it has them standing out like a sore thumb. It’s possible that Chief didn’t think this through when he volunteered Ron, but water’s always been known to be wet.

“Hey,” comes a loud shout from across the street. Not a single person on their side pays it any mind. “Hey, hey you!” The man continues. “Yeah, you, the tall, lumberjack motherfucker with the nigger. Bad enough you had to be a faggot, but you a race traitor too?”

Flip looks a little like he’s been slapped.

Everyone on their side goes quiet. Ron sighs before he even realizes he’s doing it.

Then, some dude to their left yells, “Fuck you, asshole,” and it’s like a floodgate’s been opened. Everyone has abuse to throw at the guy and aren’t shy about sharing it.

The Uniforms trying to keep the peace start to get antsy, situating themselves at the edge of the park between the road and sidewalk in case either side tries to make more than verbal contact.

It’s exactly Flip and his brand of luck to have _them_ being the cause of a riot breaking out at this thing. Ron catches Flip’s eye and serves witness to Flip coming to that same conclusion.

Flip pushes his glasses off his nose with the heel of his palm, up and up until they’re caught his hair. Before Ron realizes what’s happening, Flip’s got his hands on Ron’s face, their mouths together.

It’s one hell of a kiss.

The crowd must think so too, because their abuse starts to taper off, turning into cheers. Coming back to himself after becoming momentarily distracted by Flip’s tongue licking over his, Ron realizes the volume of the cheers has died down a little as well.

Ron pulls back, ending the kiss so that he can look around, still close enough that he can get back to kissing Flip if he needs to. Some of the other couples are following their example and kissing like their lives depends on it. The gawkers across the street break from their momentary shock and start shouting about public indecency, but that does little more than further encourage the kissing, looks like.

“We gotta stop getting ourselves into these situations,” Ron says.

Flip looks like a lot of things. Not a single one of them is apologetic. “Out of the pan, into the fire.”

“Jimmy’s listening.” It feels like a reminder Ron should give. He's the responsible one, after all, no matter how Flip tries to spin things. 

“Ah, fuck it.” Flip shrugs his shoulders under Ron’s hands. Ron hadn’t even realized he was clutching on to them. “May as well give him a show.”


End file.
